Storm Stories
by writingrarities
Summary: Rory is a reporter whose soon to be published expose causes an unforeseen tragedy. She is plunged into an investigation and meets a dective who brings back unsettling memories...
1. Chapter 1

Storm Stories.

I do not own the Gilmore characters. I hope this is the beginning of a new Trory. Let me know what you think

Rory's Storm

The wind howled like a creature in agony. The biting cold stung his face and hands. The snow leeched all color from the world and muffled all sound except for the wind. His fevered brain could process only one thought, revenge. Revenge against the woman who had ruined his life. He would take advantage of this incredible storm to take his revenge and disappear. They would never find him. There would be no clues, no evidence, nothing to link him to her death. He would extract his pound of flesh and move on. Rory Gilmore had ruined him. That article she had published exposed his shady dealings and he had to resign from office. His wife left him, the FCC seized all his money and all his friends were shunning him. His high-flying life had crashed to the ground like the Hindenburg. He had nowhere to go. This was all her fault! Rory Gilmore had to die.

He saw lights on in her townhouse. There was no one on the street. The parked cars looked like camels hunkering down under a thick blanket of undisturbed snow. There were no prints on the sidewalk and all other dwellings were darkened. People were hibernating until the storm passed. He watched as the relentless wind quickly obliterated his tracks and he smiled. It was time.

He knew the layout of the house; he knew there was a rear door and that she parked her car in the alley out back. He sidled along the edge of the house and slid through the space between the back gate and the parking area. Her car was there. It was buried like all the others. His eyes glittered as his anticipation mounted. He got the door open and silently slid into the landing. He toed off his boots and shed his coat. He didn't want too much snow to track inside, to hamper his movements. He silently climbed the stairs and prowled the house, looking for Rory Gilmore. She wasn't on the first floor. He heard movement on the second floor. A feral grin split his face. He practically bounded up the stairs. She was humming as she moved about the bedroom. Her back was to the door when he entered. He stepped up behind her and slid the garrote around her neck. She inhaled and then, struggled as her air supply was cut off. Her body went limp and she slid face down onto the floor. It had only taken minutes. He felt the rush of adrenaline subside.

He turned her over. He wanted to see the terror frozen on her face. Horror pierced the sick veil of triumph that clouded his mind. "No!" he whispered. The dead woman was not Rory Gilmore! Fury rose to flood his mind and he lashed out, destroying anything within reach. The carnage was complete. The mirrors were reduced to glittering shards on the floor. Pictures were torn from frames and the frames were splintered. The bed was flipped over and the sheets were thrown over the body on the floor. He couldn't look at her. He killed an innocent! His mind churned in revulsion. He had meant to kill that bitch Gilmore! He fled to the back door and dressed quickly. He had to get out of here! He quietly opened the door and after stepping out into the bitterly cold blizzard, he pulled it closed behind him. The storm seemed to mock him and fierce gusts tore at him as he walked down the alley away from the house. He kept to the same route, and disappeared into the swirling whiteout. He found his way to the parking garage and climbed the stairs to his car. He climbed in and turned the car on to get some heat. He should wait out the storm, but his brain screamed at him to go, to move. She was dead! You killed her! You have to go! He waited, and then succumbed to the internal dialogue. He pulled out of the garage and slowly made his way through barely plowed streets. He picked his way through the deserted streets and turned onto a main thoroughfare. He didn't see the huge snow plow bearing down on him. He turned his head just in time to see the large plow blade appear out of the whiteness and slice into his jeep. The driver slammed on the brakes but it was too late. The massive machine had crushed him. Pain pierced his unconscious mind and he actually chuckled. "That bitch! She's done it to me again. This is her fault…." he whispered as he died.


	2. Chapter 2

Yellow Tape Surprises

The sedan pulled up to the front of the row house. The yellow tape across the door was strangely bright in the overcast. The storm had lingered for two days and the plows were just getting to the side streets. A tall man got out of the car and shrugged deeper into his topcoat. It was still bitingly cold. The neighbors were watching from their windows. It was too cold and there was still too much snow on the sidewalks to venture out. Some people used the pretext of shoveling their steps and walk to see what was going on, but this was Georgetown. It didn't usually snow this much, nor was it usually this cold so the Nosy Neds didn't last long outside.

"Lieutenant" said the officer on duty at the front door. He opened the front door to let the man pass, then went back to moving from foot to foot and slapping his arms trying to keep warm. The lieutenant entered the front room and briefly conferred with another officer, then he climbed the stairs to the scene of the crime.

"Dugrey.." said the medical examiner.

"Hello Max." he replied with a weary smile. "Do you have any information for me?"

"Yes. She died of asphyxia, strangled with a garrote" He said and showed the deep purple line around the girl's throat. Her facial features were still in a mask of fear and death.

"Do you have a time of death?" he asked as he looked around the room. There were signs of a brief, fruitless struggle.

"Yes, she died between 36 and 48 hours ago. The power failure during the storm and lack of heat in the house caused her body to cool more quickly. I won't know for sure until the autopsy." Max replied as he packed up his equipment.

"Is there any information on her identity?" Lt. Dugrey asked.

"According to the mail found on the desk her name is Gilmore, Lorelei Gilmore."

Tristan Dugrey, a lieutenant with the Washington Police, former Army lieutenant and survivor of the wars in the Mideast stopped short. "What did you say?"

"Her name is Lorelei Gilmore." Max repeated. He stopped to stare at his friend. "Do you know her?"

"I used to, many years ago." He said softly. He looked closer at the things around the room and zoomed in on a picture on the desk. There she was, those unbelievable blue eyes, that long brown hair, in a picture with her mother. Tristan remembered both of the Gilmore girls from those days oh so long ago.

"How long ago?" Max pressed. He had never seen his friend act like this before.

Tristan stared into space. "High school. She was the one that got away Max." he replied.

"Sorry my friend. It appears she was unable to get away this time." He said and left the room, pausing to pat his friend on the shoulder in consolation. The medical technicians placed the body in a bag and zipped it closed. Tristan could not bring himself to look at her. They carried her down the stairs and placed her on a gurney, then wheeled it out to the examiners van for transportation to the morgue.

"Lieutenant! The officer at the door yelled. "We are done here."

Tristan came downstairs and was about to leave. "You go ahead. I am going to look around first. Leave me the key and I'll lock up when I am done." The officer gave him the key and closed the door quietly as he left.

Tristan wandered from room to room, looking at what had become of Rory Gilmore's life. He looked at framed awards on the walls and candid pictures scattered among the endless books. He smiled sadly. Rory was a tremendous reader, and he couldn't resist teasing her about it at Chilton. A Chilton diploma and a Yale Degree were framed together and hung on the wall next to the door to the kitchen. "A Yalie." He whispered. He thought she had gone on to Harvard. She was always going to go to Harvard.

He wandered into the kitchen. The stove was pristine, it looked like it had never been used. There was a toaster on the counter and some colorful dishes and glasses in the cabinets. He looked at the single dish in the dish rack and chuckled out loud. It was a "Charlie's Angels" plate. He opened the fridge and saw many leftover containers. Now he knew why her stove was so clean.

The small office off the kitchen was compact and efficient. Her laptop was still there, there were even more books stacked in here, and more framed pictures on the desk and on the shelves. He left the room and went towards the back door. He noticed some ice on the rug. This is how the murderer got in he thought. He took some pictures. He saw the jimmy marks on the outside doorframe, and some misshapen tracks in the snow. He took more pictures.

The intruder touched nothing in the house it appeared. He or she had one thing on their mind and that was to kill Rory Gilmore. This was personal. He would have to ask questions at her place of work. He returned to the front door area and began to look through the mail.

He heard the sound of someone putting a key the front lock. He took out his weapon and stole into the living room. He pressed himself against the wall and kept his eye on the front hall.

A woman entered and dropped a bag on the floor. Her back was to him, and he heard her mumbling under her breath as she struggled to close the door and juggle another bag.

"Freeze. Washing PD." he called out as he entered the doorway, weapon drawn.

The woman gasped and stood stock still.

"Who are you and why are you in this house. This is a crime scene sweetheart." He said as he holstered his gun.

"Crime scene? I thought that tape was a joke! My coworkers would do something like that." She replied . She didn't move.

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

"I live here! I'm Rory Gilmore and this is my house! Can I turn around now?" she asked in exasperation.

Tristan stood stock still. He thought he heard buzzing in his ears. Rory turned around just in time to see him slide to the floor.


	3. Rory and the Fainting Man

Rory and the Fainting Man

It was like a slow-motion film. Rory turned around in time to see a man slump to the floor. She was motionless for a second before she realized that the man had fainted. Fainted! She moved over to him and turned him on his back. She set about loosening his tie, all the while saying "Hey, Officer!" Are you okay?"

Then, she saw his face. She stared, not really believing who she was looking at.

"Tristan? … Wake up!... Tristan?... Is it really you? " She shook him gently, fanning the air around his face. His eyes fluttered and he mumbled inarticulately. Rory sat back on her heels and waited.

Tristan opened his eyes and jerked back from the ghost calmly sitting in front of him.

"Mary?" he whispered.

"Yup, it's you." She replied with a rueful grin.

"You're not dead!" he exclaimed as he pushed himself up against the wall.

"No, as you see. Why did you think I was and why are you here?" She asked, getting exasperated.

"If you're not dead, who is?" He continued.

"Tristan, I am tired, and I want to go to bed." she said as she rose to her feet. Tristan scrambled to his feet and grabbed her arm to prevent her from going upstairs.

"Tristan!" she exclaimed, staring at him in aggravation. "I haven't seen you in how many years? You still act like you did at Chilton! There is the door, make sure you close it on the way out."

"Rory, there was a murder in your house." He said quietly. Rory stopped short and stared at him.

"What did you just say?"

"There has been a murder here. Someone came in during the blizzard and murdered whoever was here. We thought it was you. The victim was about your height, brown hair, slim build…"

Rory stared at Tristan. Tears began to pool in those blue eyes he remembered, that he'd dreamed of, all those years ago.

"Madelyn.." she whispered.

"Madelyn? From Chilton?" He stared back at her.

"Yes. She was staying here while I was on assignment. She was looking for a place to live. She just got a job here in DC. I was going to be away so I let her use my house. Oh, God… Madelyn." And the tears slid down her cheeks.

Tristan took out his phone and called the station. He walked around the living room as he explained the latest developments. Rory noticed that he tugged at his hair still, just like he did in high school. She felt numb. A murder! In her house! Tristan shut off his phone and walked over to her. "Come on, I'll buy you some coffee and we'll get to the bottom of this." He helped her to her feet.

Tristan moved her bags into the living room, stood aside as she exited the house and closed and locked the door. He handed her the keys and took her to his car. The neighbors watched from behind the curtains.

He drove to a coffee shop and they grabbed a booth in the back.

"Two coffees" he said to the waitress as they passed. Rory sat silently as they waited for the coffees.

"Where were you?" Tristan asked.

"London. I was covering the Euro summit regarding the debt crisis in Greece."

"How long were you gone?"

"A week." She replied automatically

"How long was Madelyn at your house?"

"Two weeks. "

"Did you and she get along?"

"Yes, of course...Oh my God!" Rory stared at Tristan. "Am I a suspect?!" she hissed.

"Come on Rory. These are routine questions. If I didn't ask them and clear you right away they'd have my badge!" he hissed back.

Anger snapped in those amazing blue eyes. "No, we had no issues. I left last Friday on Virgin Atlantic flight 3546, and I stayed at Claridge's. I returned on Virgin Atlantic flight 2376. I landed about 2 hours ago." She whipped open her purse and produced two baggage claim checks which she shoved at him. "Are we through here? I have to find a place to stay."

"Rory, please sit down" he said. Something in his tone made her pause. She stared at his face as she sank into her seat. He looked at her expectantly.

"Obviously you are not the suspect. I believe that you were the intended target. You both have the same coloring, the same build, and from behind, Madelyn could easily be mistaken for you by someone not as familiar with you."

"Me? You think someone is trying to kill _me_? For what reason?" Fear crept into Rory's voice

"That is what I intend to find out." Tristan replied as he sipped his coffee.


	4. Where to go, what to say, where to stay

Where to go, what to say, where to stay…

"Why would someone be after me?" Rory whispered to herself. Tristan stared at her pale face. She looked pretty shaky. Just then, there was a commotion outside the door. Rory and Tristan turned in unison as the door opened and Lorelei burst in. Luke was at her heels. Lorelei's face was tear- streaked, and Luke looked devastated. They both stopped short as they beheld Rory standing in the foyer. "What? Rory? .." and Lorelei promptly slid to the floor in a dead faint. Luke caught her before she could hit her head.

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed and she jumped to her mother's side. Luke just stared at her.

"They came to the house. They said you had been killed. They said it was you..." he was babbling.

"I know. It wasn't me however. It was Madelyn. I was away, remember?" Rory said, trying to soothe her stepfather. She chafed Lorelei's hand and whispered "Mom! It's okay. I'm here. I'm not hurt. Wake up"

Lorelei stirred, looked up at her daughter and threw her arms around her. She began to cry in earnest. "They came to the house; they said you had been killed. I said no, that you were overseas but they said the victim matched your description! That she was in your bedroom. Oh my God, Rory what happened?" She finally loosened her grip on Rory and looked at her.

"Someone killed Madelyn. She was staying here while I was in London so she could look for a place to live." Rory told her, her voice as shaky as her knees. Just then, she felt a hand under her elbow. Tristan helped her to her feet and then helped Luke get Lorelei to hers.

"Why don't you all sit in the living room? I'll get you something to drink." Tristan turned to go into the kitchen. He searched, and finally found the bottled water in the cabinet. With four bottles in hand he returned to the front room to see Rory sitting between her parents. Lorelei was still sniffling. Rory looked exhausted and Luke looked relieved.

Tristan passed out the bottles and all four of them opened them and took a drink. Rory actually began to giggle. "What?" Lorelei asked

"Just synchronized drinking. I thought it was funny" Tristan hid a grin. Rory was trying very hard not to get hysterical. Luke stared at Tristan and recognition began to dawn on him.

"Hey, aren't you…?'

"Bible Boy?!" Lorelei exclaimed. She, too, had been staring at Tristan.

"Lieutenant Tristan Dugrey, Georgetown PD" he said. He looked at Rory and asked "Bible Boy?"

Both Gilmore Girls dissolved into gales of laughter. Tears fell as fear, hysteria and joy merged and the tension was released. Luke just stared at them, and then shrugged his shoulders at Tristan.

"Biblical insults, cool" Lorelei hiccoughed and Rory laughed harder. "Ow, my stomach hurts." she managed to say as the laughter subsided.

"I'm sorry Tristan. That goes back to Chilton. I couldn't understand why you kept calling me Mary. Mom enlightened me." She grinned at Lorelei and held her hand. Her eyes were still glittering with unspent tears. Tristan grinned and shook his head. Luke stood up and shook Tristan's hand. "Luke Danes" he said. Suddenly, Lorelei bolted to her feet. "Where are you going to stay? You can't stay here! You can never stay here!"

"I know, but the city is totally booked ! There are four major conventions here this week and there are zero rooms available."

"Come home with Luke and me." Rory looked at Tristan. He shook his head.

"I can't mom. I have to get back to work and I don't want to put you two in any danger."

Lorelei stared at her. "What do you mean put us in danger?"

"We think that Rory was the intended target. Madelyn was here and Rory wasn't . The murderer didn't know that and killed Madelyn in a case of mistaken identity. Since the murder, her house has been ransacked. We are trying to figure out what they were looking for as well as why she was a target."

"So! She should definitely get out of here and come home with Like and me!"

"No. She has to stay here where we can protect her." Tristan replied. The tone of his voice was calm but the finality was there. Rory would be staying in DC.

Lorelei walked right up to him and said with deadly calm "If you don't protect her I will find you and kill you." Luke stood next to his wife. "I will help her do it." was all he said. Tristan nodded. She turned to Rory and began to tear up again. "Please be careful. I don't think I could bear to hear that you were dead again. Once is enough in any parent's life" and she hugged her daughter.

"I'll be careful. I promise. She took Luke's hand and he pulled her into a tight hug. "Please be careful Rory."

Rory stood there sniffling after they left. Tristan waited in silence as she pulled herself together. It was totally dark out now.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now you come home with me." Tristan replied. He waited for her reaction. She didn't disappoint him.

"Are you out of your mind? Go home with you?! Why am I going home with you?" She turned to face him. He watched the disbelief play across her face, watched the color return to her pale complexion and the fire return to those incredible blue eyes. She had herself well in hand.

"As you told your mother, there are NO hotel rooms available. Your car is still buried under two feet of snow and you have no shovels. All your clothes are in that room upstairs and you look like you are going to fall down from exhaustion. Grab your suitcase, your other laptop and your boots. I have a guest room . Do you have a better idea?"

Rory glared at him then turned on her heel and stalked to her office. She grabbed her laptop and returned to the foyer. Tristan was standing next to her suitcase. He was grinning at her. Rory had a sudden flashback to Chilton. She stood looking at him. He wasn't that boy, but he was Tristan.

"There had better be a lock on that guest room door." She said under her breath as she yanked open the front door. Tristan laughed out loud as he picked up her suitcase and followed her out into the dark winter night. Neither one of them saw the man standing in the shadows across the street. He observed their departure. When the taillights of Tristan's car disappeared around the corner, he crossed the street and entered the alley behind the row of townhouses.


	5. KMAG YOYO

KMAG YOYO

The man entered the house by the back door. No lights were turned on. Using a small focused beam flashlight he navigated across the kitchen and into the office.

"Shit" he exclaimed under his breath. The laptop was gone!

He moved back into the kitchen and made his way to the stairs. Flicking off the flashlight he climbed to the second floor and carefully searched for the bedroom. It wasn't hard to find. The debris glittered within the narrow beam of light as he turned the flashlight on again. He skirted the area where Madelyn had lain on the rug. He searched the nightstands and the bureau drawers, swearing fluently as he saw that whoever searched before him had been clumsy and obvious. He made a deep and thorough search of the entire room, of Madelyn's luggage, the bathroom, the toilet tank, and under all the furniture. Nothing! The information Madelyn had been carrying was gone. Either that or she had hidden it very, very well.

He made a complete search of the whole house. Again, he came up with nothing. That left two options. Either whoever killed Madelyn knew she had sensitive information and took it after he killed her, or the Gilmore woman had it on her somewhere. His bet was on the Gilmore woman and that damned laptop. He would have to find out who the police officer who had her in tow was, and muscle in on the case using an NSA smokescreen. This was supposed to be so simple, now it was about to become KMAG YOYO.

Tristan drove through the still semi deserted streets. Washingtonians didn't do snow apparently. The government would reopen tomorrow so people would have to come out. Until then, he would enjoy the empty streets and quiet.

"I used to think snow was magic" Rory said softly.

"Why?" Tristan asked as he turned onto a side street.

"Good things happened when it snowed." She said. Her voice sounded sad. "This isn't good."

"No. This isn't good." He pulled into a driveway and then, a garage. Rory looked around. This was a nice neighborhood. Tristan had land, off street parking, and a very nice house set back from the road.

"You have a very nice house." Rory murmured .

"It's home." He replied . There was exhaustion in his voice. Rory dropped her bag in the mudroom and toed off her boots. Tristan hung his coat up in a closet and did the same with hers. He sat down and untied his boots and then rose and picked up her bag.

"Do you want coffee or anything?" he asked as they entered a clean, efficient looking kitchen.

"Just water please." Rory replied as she looked around. He snagged a bottle from the fridge and said "I'll show you to the guest room." Rory followed him across the living room and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He led her to the room at the end of the hall and opened the door. It was a nicely decorated room with a queen sized bed. "The bathroom is in through that door on the left. There are towels in the closet. The lock works." He said as he stood to the side of the door

Rory whipped around and saw him grinning as he left the room, closing the door behind him. He chuckled when she flipped the lock with a decided click.

She swore she heard him whisper "Good night Mary." as he walked back down the hall.

Rory stood there for a minute, then shrugged and went into the bathroom. She took a quick hot shower, then climbed into the bed, It was warm and comfortable. The silence was soothing, and soon, Rory was deeply asleep.

Tristan lay in his bed, What was going to happen now? Rory Gilmore was here. She was not the victim. The tight sorrow he had felt when it appeared that she had been murdered faded away the minute she walked through the door and caused him to faint dead away. Faint! It's a good thing there wasn't anyone else in the house! He would never hear the end of it if word of this got around the precinct. So, why was Madelyn murdered? Was it a case of mistaken identity like he thought? Was Rory the intended victim? Who had gotten in and looked through everything in the house after he and Rory left? He was just drifting off when one last thought crossed his mind. "I really hope her mother doesn't have to kill me because I couldn't protect Rory." He chuckled briefly before he slid into blackness.

Outside, a car slowly rolled by the house then proceeded down the block.


	6. Chapter 6

Rory snuggled deeper into the blankets as she slowly awakened to the sound of wind and something hitting the windows. She opened one eye to see the gloomy grey light and tried to go back to sleep. The unmistakable aroma of coffee caught her attention and the realization that she was not in her own bed slammed home. Both eyes flew open and she looked around, remembering the last two days with a rush of anxiety. She was in Tristan's guest room!

She quickly took stock of her position, of how she was dressed and what time it was. "At least I'm in my own clothes." She mumbled, and then shook her head. Why did she still expect the worst from Tristan? She threw back the blankets and grinned as she unlocked the door and followed the scent of coffee.

Rory saw him from the hall that ran beside the stairs. Tristan was sitting at the table reading his tablet and drinking coffee. Dressed in well worn sweatpants and a thermal tee shirt that did nothing to hide his build he gave a vague wave as he continued to read and tug at his hair.

He looked adorable.

When Rory entered the kitchen he looked up and smiled that lazy, charming smile she remembered from Chilton. "Good Morning. Would you like some coffee?" he asked as he rose from his seat.

"Yes please" Rory answered softly as she took a seat at the table. Tristan placed a heavy mug of coffee and a teaspoon in front of her. There was a creamer and sugar bowl in the center of the table. "Thank you" she sighed and closed her eyes a she took a sip. She hummed her appreciation as she tasted the rich brew. Tristan watched her and grinned. Rory opened her eyes and actually blushed. "Coffee is essential to my well being"

"So I see."

'This is good, points for you."

"Glad to hear it." Tristan walked over to the 'fridge. "I am going to make some breakfast. Would you care for eggs and bacon?"

"Ooo, yes please I am starving." Rory grinned and did a little chair dance. Tristan was enchanted.

Tristan worked quickly as he cooked bacon, scrambled eggs, toasted bread and refilled the coffee.

"You make a great short order cook and waiter" Rory said.

"If you live alone and want to eat without having to rely on take out all the time you learn." He said. "I can handle breakfast and lunch and simple suppers. I do make a great Bolognese sauce however."

"I can make coffee and call for takeout." Rory said.

"Let's figure out what is going on here, okay?" he said as he put the wonderfully laden plates on the table.

"Going on here?" Rory asked

"Yes. Let's see if we can't figure out who broke in to your house and killed Madelyn instead of you" Tristan was in cop mode.

Rory stopped, fork in mid air and squeaked "You think someone was after me?"

"Yes. There were clues to indicate the killer made an error. He covered her face and then destroyed your room.. YOUR room. The rest of the house was untouched. There was frustration and rage in the way he trashed everything."

She swallowed her food without tasting it. She placed her fork on the plate, then pushed the plate away. Sorrow and fear showed in her expression.

"Have you written any expose or article that got someone into deep shit?" he asked gently.

"There was one recently" and she told him the tale of one Henry Caulfield. "He bilked thousands out of their retirement, bankrupted pension funds and pocketed millions. He ended up getting disbarred, the SEC seized his assets and got his wife to turn over the offshore accounts rather than face jail time herself, and then she divorced him."

"I remember that case. Nice piece of writing." Rory nodded and just looked at her hands.

"Anyone else who may be holding a grudge?" Tristan asked as he cleared the table.

"No one I can think of." Rory replied.

"Okay. Let's see what Mr. Caulfield is up to." He typed a series of commands into his laptop and read the information that he called up.

"Well well well.." he said mysteriously. Rory just looked at him.

"It seems that Mr. Caulfield was supposed to report for sentencing yesterday. However, he had a close encounter with a snowplow during the storm. The snowplow won. His body is in the morgue and his car, or what was left of it, was taken to the impound lot." Tristan paused and looked directly at Rory. "He was killed one block from your address."

Rory processed this information. Silence reigned in the kitchen as the wind continued to beat the icy sleet against the windows.

"Then who went through my place if Caulfield was already dead?" Rory asked.

"That is the question, isn't it? " Tristan answered

"Let's play with this line of thinking" Rory said, her eyes narrowing."I was the target, Madelyn was the victim. My house was ransacked AFTER her body was taken away. Caulfield may have been the perpetrator, but he was killed in a collision with a very unforgiving snowplow BEFORE the crime was discovered. I know I didn't have anything worth stealing in such a spook manner. So, that leaves something that Madelyn was carrying or hiding or working on. She told me that she just got a new job and needed to look in the DC area for new digs. The questions now are what was she working on and who was she working for?"

Tristan sat back in his chair and listened to her quick, concise appraisal of the situation. He grinned. She was brilliant. Rory looked at him and blushed. "What?" she said, suddenly self-conscious.

"Spook manner?" He said as he leaned in.

Rory grimaced and said "Yes. You know, like Jason Bourne."

Tristan grinned again and shook his head. "It's plausible."

"So, how do we check this angle out? Do you have any spook contacts?" Rory asked.

"Spook contacts?" Tristan laughed

"Yes, do you have any contacts in the FBI? The CIA? The NSA?" Now, he really laughed.

"Do you?" he managed to ask

"As a matter of fact I do." Rory's voice was calm and level. She looked Tristan in the eye. He stopped laughing.

"I do also." He said softly. I think you are right, as you always were back at Chilton" he said softly.

"So, who calls first?" Rory said. She felt a little breathless.

Tristan picked up his phone.

Outside, a grey car drove slowly by the house again.


	7. Going for a Ride

Going for a Ride..

Tristan was on his cell, carrying on a conversation in a muted, serious voice. Rory went upstairs to the guest room and retrieved her laptop bag. She returned to the kitchen and pulled the computer out. A thumb drive tumbled out and skittered across the table. She picked it up and looked at it questioningly. Tristan was tugging at his hair as he talked when he noticed the look on her face and saw the drive in her hand.

"I gotta go. I'll call you back later." He said to whoever he was talking to. "What is it?" he asked as he walked to her side.

"It isn't mine, but it was in my bag. Maybe this is what the alphabet guys were looking for when they went through my house." She replied, suddenly very serious.

Rory inserted the drive into a port and watched with disbelief as image after image opened. There were files, spreadsheets and photos. Tristan scanned them rapidly, a sense of dread washing over him. Rory scanned just as rapidly, a feeling of intrigue and excitement building. What a story this will make!

"Holy shit" he said softly

"Holy shit indeed." She replied.

The files documented the actions of a group of mercenaries. It appeared to be evidence of irregularities.

Serious irregularities. Seriously illegal irregularities. From what both of them could see they were tied to U.S. agencies… Alphabet agencies...

"Do you think Madelyn was a part of this or did she discover this?" Rory asked.

"I hope it was the latter." Tristan said

"What do we do now? Rory said.

"Did you download this or just open it?" He asked urgently.

"I just opened it." She replied.

"Remove the drive and hide it. Wipe it clean of your fingerprints and put it back into the leather case and wipe that too. Let's try to find out who she was working for." Tristan said decisively. "I know the journalist in you wants to take the files and run with this, but we don't know who we are dealing with. If these people are who I'm afraid they are, you wouldn't last a week, and neither would I. Whoever wants this has already been to your house and they know I am in charge of the murder case."

Rory was silent as she thought about what Tristan just said.

"This is too spooky for me. I am a journalist but I don't have a death wish. How do we go about finding out who this information should go to? If we start asking questions, won't we set off alarm bells?"

"If we ask the wrong questions of the wrong agency the alarms will go off. I'll start investigating from another angle" Tristan gazed out the window and seemed lost in thought.

"What other angle?" Rory asked quietly. "Wait! How about looking at the homicidal subject of an expose who murdered the wrong person?"

"Caulfield?" Tristan asked.

"Yes! You could investigate what ever was found in his crushed up car and forensic evidence on him. If you tie him to the break in and the murder it may be a good smokescreen." Rory said

"Smokescreen for what?" Tristan pondered. "It is a good plan. This angle may draw out the alphabet boys. If the information you gave me about Madelyn looking for a place to live because she just got a new job in DC is just vague enough to make you look clueless we may have a chance."

"Clueless?!" Rory squawked.

"You know what I mean; 'Clueless' as in without a clue. You were out of the country, you only saw Madelyn for a few days when she arrived, then left the country on assignment. Caulfield mistook Madelyn for you. We even thought the victim was you."

Rory pondered this scenario briefly. "The alphabet boys were in my house once it was determined that Madelyn was the victim. If you start to investigate the murder from the angle that Caulfield was the perpetrator and I was the target we may be able to find out who she was working for without asking questions."

"Right! That agency will come nosing around . Maybe we could slip the drive into her belongings. They may want to retrieve her stuff to return it to her family." Tristan added .

Rory thought about what they had just come up with. She was quiet, lost in thought.

"There's just one little problem with this." she said quietly as she roused herself from her contemplation.

"What's that?" Tristan asked. He had a bad feeling about what she was going to say next.

"What if the spooks that were in my house were the bad guys? What if they were after Madelyn and her information. What if she was trying to get this stuff to the good guys? And, lastly, who are the good guys and who are the bad guys?" She asked.

Tristan continued to stare out the window.

"I think we need to get dressed, right now." He said suddenly

Rory knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice. "What is it?"

"A grey sedan just drove down the street…for the second time in an hour. I can spot an agency car at a half a mile." He said grimly. He took her by the arm and headed out of the kitchen.

"Okay, where are we going?" she asked as they made their way upstairs.

"To the station. We'll be safer there. Wear clothes you can run in if necessary. Do you run like a girl?" he asked with a grin

"Run like a girl?! Of course I run like a girl! I hated gym, I have no athletic ability and I could never see the attraction of running on purpose!" She screeched.

"I think maybe we need to take the Beast then." Tristan said

"The Beast! What's the Beast?" Rory asked as she entered her room

"A four wheel drive that could get us through just about anything." He said with a grin.

"Should I be worried?" Rory stuck her head out into the hall as she pulled on her jeans."

"I'm not." He replied with a chuckle.

"Oh shit. I recognize that chuckle even after all these years." Rory mumbled to herself.

"Come on Mary! We are going for a ride!" He yelled as he took the stairs two at a time.

"I not going to like this am I?" she said as she reached kitchen. Tristan already had his coat on and held hers out for her.

"That depends. Do you want to be interrogated by unknown alphabet boys and or mercenaries or do you want to get out of this a quickly as possible." He was deadly serious.

"I'll take Surviving for $200 Alex" she said as she slid her arms into her coat.

Tristan laughed out loud at her answer. Leave it to Mary to throw in a Jeopardy reference at a time like this.

"Some things just don't change, do they?" he said with a grin.

"And some things do" She responded. She turned and looked him in the eye. Tristan wasn't prepared when Rory kissed him.


	8. Spooks and Sunshine

Brandon Cummings walked down a quiet hallway towards a meeting he didn't want to attend. The murder of one of the most promising assets and loss of the information she was carrying was a serious fuck up. He and his partner were interrupted during their search of the Gilmore woman's town house. The flash drive now seemed to be in the possession of the reporter and the police detective. He knocked on a door, entered and closed the door behind him. Ten minutes later he loosened his tie as he strode away from the meeting. After being reamed as an incompetent rookie, he was given forty-eight hours to fix this mess.

" Damn it! Why wasn't her flight rerouted like nearly every other flight had been that day." He mumbled as he worked through his notes again. Gilmore was now in the custody of one Lt. Dugrey of the D.C. police. He checked Tristan's background, mumbling about his privileged upbringing, his war record, anything to convince himself that Tristan was just a rich kid playing policeman. He looked up Rory's background. Single mom… rich grandparents… rich father, same prep school as Dugrey…wait! Same prep school as the asset! "Why did we miss this connection?" He said viciously. Brandon closed the file and shut down his laptop. He then picked up his phone and called his partner Stan. Stan answered on the second ring.

"Tell me they haven't left that damned house" he growled

"I am about to circle the block again. As of five minutes ago they were still at Dugrey's."

"Why aren't you parked nearby?" Brandon almost shouted.

"Snowplows asshole! If I park I get blocked in. They should be finished within ten minutes, then I'll park. Give me an effin' break; I know how to run surveillance!" Stan shouted back.

"Just don't lose them or we will be assigned to East Outback South Dakota!"

"Shit Shit Shit!" Stan exclaimed just as he was about to disconnect.

"WHAT?"

"There are tire tracks leading from Dugrey's driveway! The garage door is closed. The tracks are headed east towards DC proper."

"Follow them!" Brandon hissed.

"Duh! No shit Sherlock! Aw…damn it!" Stan said under his breath. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration.

"Now what?" Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for the bad news.

"The plows just finished clearing the main drag. I can't tell if they turned right or left!"

Brandon closed his phone and stared out the window at the still grey sky. What more could go wrong?

Rory sat snuggly in the front seat as the Beast moved easily among the DC traffic. Slushy roads made for timid drivers, especially those with little winter driving experience. Tristan didn't drive too fast, but he moved with confidence. He didn't want to draw any attention to his car. Ten minutes later they pulled into the garage at the police station and went into the squad room. There were a few empty desks, and a few ringing phones.

"Good. It's quiet in here" Tristan said softly as they made their way to his desk.

"This is quiet?" Rory asked as she looked around.

"Yeah. The bad guys don't like to be out in this weather. It's cold, wet and slippery. They can't get away easily." Tristan said as he took a seat behind his neat desk.

"I think it's because they don't have any winter boots." Rory replied as she sat down. Tristan swallowed a laugh.

"I like that." He said and grinned at her. His heart gave a little thump as he recalled her surprise kiss . He would definitely revisit that.

"Let's get down to our story before too many people get here. We need to get that drive back amongst Madelyn's things. We also need to tie Caulfield to the murder. I am going to put your story and alibi into my notes and request the totaled car be searched for forensic evidence to tie him to Madelyn's murder.

"Where are her things" Rory asked quietly

"In the evidence room." Tristan replied.

"How do we go about getting the drive in there?" Rory asked earnestly

" I'm thinking about that. Maybe we should go back to your house and see if her luggage is still there. As far as I know, we only have what she was wearing. If her other things are still at your house we can hide the drive in her suitcase lining. I'll tie Caulfield to the murder and then get permission to gather her belongings to return to her family. If we are lucky, the alphabet boys will poke around here as the story breaks about Caulfield being the perp. If there isn't any story about what is on the drive, and we don't ask any further questions about why she was staying at your house, we may escape scrutiny from the bad guys and the good guys. Let's let them fight it out between themselves as to who gets the drive. I really don't want you to be in the middle of it."

Rory was silent as she looked at Tristan. "As much as I would love to break a story like this, I know I would be way outside my comfort zone. I am really afraid of spook business. They are too good at making people disappear and making the innocent look guilty. Since we don't know who the bad guys are I wouldn't know who to trust and who to run from. Get rid of it." She said.

"Okay then." He smiled at her serious face.

"Do you have any coffee? I think I need a really big cup." Rory said. Her voice was slightly shaky.

"I wouldn't recommend the tar they make here. Tristan said with a chuckle.

Rory stood up. Tristan saw her rub her palms on her thighs as she did. "Nervous?" he asked

"Scared" she replied

Tristan took her arm as they made their way through the now more crowded squad room. "Let me run my request about the forensics of Caulfield's car by the Captain. I can then take you out to get coffee and we will detour for a quick look at your place. If her luggage and clothing are still there, we'll slip the drive into her suitcase lining and then leave. "

"Will this work?" Rory whispered. Tristan noticed she was pale.

"I think it is our best bet. No one knows about the drive except the spook boys. There has been no splashy headline, no CNN reporters camping out outside any agency and - this is the best part- the murderer is already dead, taken out by the Snowplow of Justice." Tristan said with quiet determination.

Rory pulled up short and stared at Tristan. He turned and looked back at her, a questioning look on his face. Her cheeks began to flush and those amazing blue eyes actually sparkled. "What?" he asked, his hand still holding her arm.

"The Snowplow of Justice?" she said, a smile tugging at her mouth. Tristan grinned.

The Captain gave the go ahead for the forensic work and waved his lieutenant off as the phone on his desk began to ring. Tristan and Rory left the station and walked to the nearby coffee shop. With larget o go cups in hand they went into the garage and climbed into the Beast. They made it to Rory's house in about half an hour. More people were venturing out as the weak sunlight made the snow blindingly white. Tristan slipped on his sunglasses, as Rory dug hers out of her handbag. Tristan drove down the alley behind the row of houses and parked behind Rory's still buried car. The snow blowers were already at work throughout the neighborhood.

"I was thinking, let's be really paranoid and believe the spooks have bugged my house by now." Tristan said nothing. Rory continued "Talk like we know nothing about the drive. I'll whine a bit about having to go back in my house. You pretend to be aggravated and tell me to just get the clothes I need and hurry up about it. I'll whine some more and if the luggage and Madelyn's stuff is still there you put the drive in the lining. Do you have some gloves on you?" she asked seriously. Tristan nodded and pulled a pair or two out of his console. "Good. Let's get this show over with. She finished and unbuckled her seatbelt. Tristan unbuckled but didn't reach for the door. Instead, he reached for her and pulled her in for a kiss. Lightning forked through him. Rory sighed and kissed him back.

"What was that for?" she said breathlessly.

"That was for kissing me in my house. You give me hope, a hope I thought I killed at Chilton all those years ago." He said as he put his forehead on hers.

"Oh." She exclaimed softly. Then, she kissed him again.


End file.
